


Amuse-bouche

by Stakebait



Series: Uncovered and other stories [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M, Peter/Elizabeth implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9362453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stakebait/pseuds/Stakebait
Summary: Peter wants to give Neal a blow job, for once, instead of the other way around. Neal is thrown for a loop.





	

The house was just starting to smell like yeast and garlic and rosemary, but it would be a while before Peter's famous beer-braised pot roast was falling off the bone. The credits of _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_ were still rolling up the TV screen. Elle wouldn't be home from the Bar Mitzvah she was throwing for hours. Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke lounged on the pulled-out sofabed in Peter's living room with their legs loosely entangled, and Neal hadn't had an orgasm yet. Peter felt this was a situation that should be remedied.

He unbuttoned Neal's shirt, began nibbling on Neal's collarbone, and soon kissed his way down to Neal's nipples, teasing the near one with his teeth and echoing his movements on the other side with his fingernails. What with twelve years of marriage and all, one transferable skill Peter did possess was attending to nipples, and he did so with enthusiasm. That Neal liked it rougher than Elizabeth could tolerate had freaked him out a little—until the first time Neal had growled low in his throat and begged “harder, Peter, _please_." Now there was little that went straight to Peter's cock faster than the mewling noises Neal made when Peter pinched and twisted and held on.

Today, though, he only gave Neal's nipples the proverbial lick and a promise, before he began trailing lazy kisses down Neal's stomach, circling the navel with his tongue before kissing down the trail of hair that disappeared into Neal's waistband. Peter nudged Neal's thighs apart and flipped over onto his stomach in the gap between them, burying his face in the crotch of Neal's trousers to inhale the scent of him while he fumbled with Neal's belt.

After a minute, Peter looked up to find Neal staring down at him. “Little help here?” prompted Peter. “Not all of us can undo a buckle one handed in 30 seconds.”

Peter caught Neal's zipper in his teeth and pulled it down.. Neal hadn't actually done anything about the buckle, so Peter managed it after all on the third try. He leaned in and breathed warm wet air through Neal's briefs onto his cock. He could about manage to reach the soft skin behind the head with his tongue, at a super awkward angle, just barely.

“Lift your hips,” said Peter, tugging on the fabric of Neal's trousers. “You know, if you didn't wear your suits so tight, we wouldn't have these problems.”

Neal didn't lift his hips.

“Or you could change when we get home,” Peter suggested, then wondered if it was too soon to suggest that Neal leave a few clothes at his place after all.

He looked up again. Neal was still staring at Peter as if he'd grown a second head. 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, propping himself up on his elbows to look Neal in the face. Neal nodded and licked his lips. He didn't look okay.

“Do you not _like_ blowjobs?” Peter was having a hard time understanding how that could be a thing.

“Of course I like blowjobs,” said Neal.

“Well,” said Peter reasonably, “I know I probably won't be very good at it yet, but I'm not going to get any better unless I practice. I do know what I like. And I take suggestions.”

“Peter,” said Neal, “you don't have to do this.”

“I _can't_ do this,” Peter said, tugging gently on the fabric flaps of Neal's open fly again, to no avail, “unless you give me a little help here.”

Neal reached down and caught Peter's shoulder. “No, I mean, you don't have to do this,” he said, as if that were a completely different sentence from the one he'd said the first time.

“Okay,” Peter agreed cautiously. For the first time since he and Neal had started doing whatever the hell they were doing, this felt like one of those conversations with Elizabeth—the kind he could easily get wrong, and really didn't want to.

He sat up.

“Did I screw up somehow?” he asked Neal. It felt like that, the pit that opened up under his feet when all of a sudden he realized he'd hurt Elle and didn't know why.

“No!” Neal was vehement. “You just--”

“Don't have to do this,” Peter finished gently. “I know. I didn't think it was homework, Caffrey,” he added. Peter sighed softly. He could feel the mood escaping them, gently deflating like Neal's erection.

“Does it fuck up the fantasy for you? If I'm not always on top?” Peter asked. They'd never really discussed the elephant in the room, that Peter had damned near total control over Neal, if he chose to use it, and while Peter had convinced himself—well, with a little help from Neal and Elizabeth—that this was okay as long as he _didn't_ use it, maybe that didn't mean it was totally irrelevant to what Neal saw in him after all. Peter would just as soon they never did discuss it—he would find out if Neal still wanted him once the anklet came off.

An incredulous laugh escaped Neal, which reassured Peter immensely. “You have no idea how many nights I've come imagining your mouth on me,” Neal said.

“ _Jesus,_ Neal.” Neal might have lost the mood. Peter had definitely found it again. “I love it when you talk like that."

"If I can't make you come, I could at least lick your balls while you jerk off,” Peter added. “You could come in my mouth. I want to taste you.” He had, of course, on his fingers, but it wasn't the same.

“You don't have to do this.” Neal barely breathed the words. It was starting to sound like a mantra.

“How many times have we had sex?” Peter asked him.

“Which kind?” Neal asked, sounding more like himself.

“Any kind,” Peter said, exasperated.

Neal's lips began to move, and Peter was charmed to realize he was actually counting. “My place, the car, the parking garage, the hotel, my place, your place, your place again.... 37,” Neal eventually announced.

“Supply closet,” Peter reminded him.

“39,” Neal corrected himself.

“And every single one of those has been me fucking you, or you sucking me, or just hands. I'd say it's definitely my turn. For once we're not in a rush, we're not worried about getting caught, we can make noise, we have all the time in the world for you to show me what you like. So if you like me and you like blow jobs and you like the idea of me giving you blow jobs, why do you keep telling me I don't have to?”

“Because you're straight!” Neal finally came out with it.

Peter rocked back. “I'm what, now?”

“....Straight?” At least this time Neal had the grace to sound a little tentative while making this ridiculous pronouncement.

"I know we live in a brave new gender-fluid world. I watched the HR webinar. But you're still a guy, right?" asked Peter.

"Yes," Neal admitted.

"Me too. Glad we got that settled," said Peter. "So why the hell would you think I was straight?"

"I'm the first guy you've been with," Neal said.

"There's a first time for everything," Peter pointed out.

"How old are you?" Neal asked, even though he knew to the day how old Peter was, and they both knew it.

"Older than you," Peter said, wondering where Neal was going with this.

"And you never even thought about it till me, did you?" Neal pressed.

"No," Peter admitted. "So what? I think about it now, all the fucking time. Especially in meetings....”

“Because of me.”

“ _Yes,_ Neal, which is why I am trying to suck your dick. But you are _making it difficult._ ”

“What if I conned you into it?” Neal asked.

“I'm not the expert here,” said Peter with heavy irony, “but I think that might work better if you stopped trying to talk me out of it.”

“Not that,” said Neal. “Into...us.”

Peter couldn't help it. He cracked up. “Get over yourself, Caffrey. Nobody's that good.”

"If anybody is, I am," Neal said modestly.

Peter's smile was proud. "Yeah," he admitted. "But I know who you are, and that's who I want. All of it. Even the guy parts." Peter thought that one over and amended. "Actually, especially the guy parts. I know I’m always saying we need more evidence, but I would think 37—“

“—39—”

“—39 times would be enough proof!"

"I could be—an exception."

Peter rolled his eyes. "What is this, Brokeback Bureau?"

Neal continued, "Not every guy who sleeps with men considers himself bi, Peter. Sometimes it's just...fun, I guess. Easier, a buddy thing... I don't know." Neal gave up. Not like he understood either. He just knew it existed.

Peter shrugged. "Other people can do what they want. I don't know if I'm ever gonna be attracted to another man besides you," Peter said. "I also don't care. I'm not straight, Neal. If it doesn't include you, then it’s not who I am.”

"....Oh," said Neal, quietly.

“How can you be the last person to get this?" Peter asked. "Even Diana took back the 'Straight But Not Narrow' T-shirt she gave me.”

“Did you ever wear it?” Neal asked curiously.

“Not really,” allowed Peter. “It was pink.”

“I don’t think they make 'Bi But Butch,'” Neal said contemplatively.

“It’s the Internet,” said Peter. “They make everything. But if you get me one, I will make you wear it. In public. With sweatpants.”

"That's a low blow, Peter."

Peter had a thought. He brow furrowed. “Wait, are _you_ straight?”

Neal laughed. “Of course not."

“So by your logic, I must not be the first guy you've been with,” Peter concluded.

“Sneaky, Peter.” Neal's tone was admiring. Neal always did like Peter's devious side.

“Tell me it's not Keller,” Peter asked.

“Fuck no!” Caffrey was vehement, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

He almost hated to ask, but... “....Mozzie?”

“No, Peter, he's like my brother. And bald. And totally straight, so far as I know.”

“Adler?”

Neal was quiet a long moment. “I would have,” he admitted finally. “But he never asked. You don't know them, Peter.”

“Them, huh? How many were there? What were they like?”

“Should we be having this conversation?” Neal demanded. “I can't tell if you're jealous or turned on.”

Peter thought it over. “Both,” he decided. “But yes, if you're okay with it, we should be having this conversation. I always want to hear your stories.”

“In that case,” said Neal, “I can talk with your mouth full.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Dotfic, as always, for beta reading (and in this case gently mocking Neal's ego/insecurity complex behind his back). All remaining errors are my own.
> 
> White Collar was created by Jeff Eastin and aired on the USA Network. No profit has been or will be generated by this transformative work.


End file.
